


Dark Legacies

by Writerperson78



Category: King of Fighters
Genre: Alcohol, Blood, Canon-atypical violence, Character Development, Conversations, Fight Scene, Gen, Graphic Violence, Violence, light gore, mostly chatting, well kinda a dude gets totalled, well unless you count the '96 ending when Iori tore Mature and Vice apart uhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:48:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26956828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writerperson78/pseuds/Writerperson78
Summary: Heidern had taken some interest in a young man, Adelheid Bernstein, around the time of the previous tournament; thinking he may have ended up an enemy, it turned out the contrary. The two men developed somewhat of a working, cordial relationship where they try to get to the bottom of a strange and shadowy group. Heidern sees a little bit of his father's darkness trying to cut through Adelheid's otherwise honorable and decent demeanor; he hopes to, perhaps, over time, try to help him.





	Dark Legacies

**Author's Note:**

> In Etudé of Revolution, a past incident was mentioned with Heidern; this was after he had met Adelheid initially(probably some months before the events of the big fic), but before he had made his bigger decision to work with him. In the game timeline, given Etudé takes place later in XI but before XIII, this probably takes place early in XI's timeline. 
> 
> I got a little spark by some miracle(quarantine is hitting hard in the creative zone) to perhaps tell this story and have some dialogue.

Over in a dark corner of a small, nondescript bar, Colonel Heidern sat with a glass of whiskey; he was driving this night, so he limited himself to one small glass, even though he could handle his liquor quite well. It was mostly to relax somewhat, as he waited for his contact to arrive. 

A contact that he did not even begin to think that he would begin having a cordial business relationship with, but nonetheless that was the case; one Adelheid Bernstein, the son of one of his worst enemies-if not his worst, Rugal, now thankfully dead. 

Somehow, though, he had developed a rapport with the young man, after first thinking they may have ended up enemies...even saying as much to him. 

He had contacted him earlier this day about meeting tonight; there were things going on involving the tournament and a strange group whom Heidern knew little about, though he had seemed to have discovered some information linking them to some interest in Rose, the youngest Bernstein child. Not a fighter herself, she ran much of the family business behind the scenes, sending Adelheid to do the heavy lifting when necessary-while he dealt with a lot of meetings and things himself, he was mostly sent after enemies of the family...which he would defeat, as he did tend to defend the only family he had left, even if she was more of a ruthless sort.

And his family's enemies were endless, to say the least. 

He could tell the young man was split between things; his generally honorable and fairly good natured attitude and his family ties, which ran fairly deep with him. For now, he trusted the young man, and so far their meetings had been peaceful and informative. They slowly discovered more about each other, and could even call themselves acquaintances now. 

Checking his watch, he sipped his glass, looking out the window onto the dark street of Köln; it was on the cusp between winter and spring, still chill. The night was clear, but there was no one to be seen walking in-he had picked a small and out of the way smoky bar to meet at since he figured it would be mostly empty, save for a couple of regulars and a bartender that paid more attention to the small TV set than anything going on around him. 

_He’s late_ , he thought. A bad feeling crept into the colonel’s stomach; he could not shake it. Adelheid had never been late before without at least letting him know. They had only met a few times so far, yes, but it still did not sit well with him. Even though he was only about fifteen minutes late, there was no contact; Heidern, a military man, was someone adjusted to being punctual. Adelheid was quite professional in his demeanor, even for someone in his early twenties, and he simply felt like something bad was happening. 

Heidern had always insisted on listening to his gut; it had served him well most of his life, and kept him alive. The few times he didn’t, it would feel like something terrible would happen. 

Finishing his glass of whiskey-a bit fast for his taste, hell of a way to treat a good vintage like that, which to be honest he was surprised a bar like this even _carried_ -he stood, smoothing down his long jacket and adjusting his hat as he stepped outside, the chill night air hitting him as he looked about. The street was empty; thanks to the relative silence-there were not that many cars out at this time, which was around ten o’ clock-he was able to catch something with his keen hearing. 

It sounded like trouble. Quickly walking down the smaller street, he turned the corner to peek down the alleyway. 

There was Adelheid and a man he did not know. The man had a gun trained on Adel; the latter was wearing a longcoat-probably not armored, Heidern guessed-and his usual clothing. He looked calm in the face of everything. The other man seemed to be middle-aged; a bit scruffy, with a bomber jacket, jeans, and workboots on, fairly nondescript. He wondered how all of this came about, though figured this was why the young man was late for their meeting.

“I gave you what you were owed,” he heard Adelheid say, his soft voice steady. 

The man snorted, glaring. “And it’s still not enough.”

Heidern stood behind the corner, not moving. This was not his fight. He did not like the look appearing in the young man’s eyes, though. He was usually a calm, honorable, even tempered fellow, but threats to his family were taken seriously. He knew he had killed before to protect them and he didn’t doubt he would again. 

“Your father took what was mine and left me with nothin’, boy,” said the man with the gun. Adelheid eyed the weapon, though stayed calm. “We was _supposed_ to be workin’ together!” He cocked the gun. “So...time to pay up.” Heidern noticed that the man was not speaking German, and his accent was unknown to him. _He must have tracked him here._

“I gave you what was yours, I said,” replied Adelheid, his eyes growing narrow. Money, Heidern imagined, was of no issue to the family-they had an absolute staggering worth. “I don’t want to do something I regret.” His voice grew cold. 

“I wanted more than the money,” the man snarled. “Life for life.” 

At that, Adelheid made his move. His eyes cold, the other man had missed his chance at leaving this alley alive. 

Before Heidern could blink, Adel lashed out with his leg, hooking his heavy boot behind the other man’s knee before he could react, tripping him up. As he fell, before he could even get a grip on the gun, he followed with another kick to the midsection; breaking ribs by the sound of it. A vicious kick to the side of the man’s face followed; a _cracking_ sound echoed through the alley as an immense stream of blood shot from his nose and mouth; at a glance, he had shattered the man’s jaw in one hit; he could hear the teeth clatter on the ground.

The look in Adel’s eyes was murderous. He regretted, for a moment, not stepping in to stop it-but at the same time, he knew the man was a criminal; it was self defense, albeit rather _brutal_ self-defense. 

As the man fell to the pavement, the gun slid out of his hand, though it did not go off; he was still awake through all of this-a testament to his fortitude. Or it was pure adrenaline keeping him going-most likely, judging by his ragged breathing-more like gasping for air from that last hit he took-it was the latter. He even managed to slide back a few inches, though to no avail-it was clear he was not in his right mind from that blow to his head, though; Heidern wondered if he was on some sort of drugs numbing some of that hit...or if it was shock. 

Adelheid wound his leg back again, nearly snarling as he came down on the man’s forehead with a leaping axe kick against the pavement-there was a sickening, wet _crunch_ as the man’s head split open like a ripe melon as Adel’s heavy, steel-shod boot connected with it. 

The man twitched in death, though stilled quickly. 

Heidern’s eye closed as he looked down. He looked back up at Adelheid, breathing heavily as he looked down at the mangled corpse, blood gushing from the gory ruin of the man’s head. It was over in but a few seconds. 

He knew the strength the young man held-he heard about it firsthand from when Ralf, Clark, and Leona had barely managed to best him in the previous tournament, with Ralf the only one standing at the end, and just barely-Ralf admitted in private he had collapsed after for some time. And that was in a tournament; he was not in a life or death situation, though he had heard the stories about his more brutal strikes when his sister had started to play the piano. He recalled hearing how he actually damaged some of the Sky Noah’s heavy metal fixings during the fight with his blows. 

But Adel’s dark eyes disturbed him...he did not like the almost... _empty_ look they had. He exhaled, deciding to step in. It wasn’t that he feared the young man-they had several cordial conversations before this. 

But he worried. He worried about how much of... _it_ got in him from his father. 

Stepping out of the shadows, he held his hand up. _I hope he recognizes me._

Adelheid’s head snapped up as he took a fighting stance again; the wind caused the trash to skitter around the alley, whipping the young man’s loose hair about as well as his long, black jacket. Blinking a few moments, he shook his head, relaxing as he looked at the man. “Colonel Heidern,” he said. “You…”

Heidern shook his head. “He had a gun and was going to kill you. I have had to kill men who pointed guns at me with the intent to kill, too.” He looked down at the body, shivering internally a moment. It was an _awful_ mess-anyone not accustomed to blood and death may have vomited at the sight. He looked back at Adel, checking out his eyes. _They are sane_ , he thought, _just...dark_. _He’s in full control._ They were red-naturally so-which always gave them an eerie look against his very fair skin even without the more murderous pall that had been cast over them for the moment. 

He knew for certain he had some of his father’s darkness in him, and he could tell he fought against it. The music, he knew, could cause some of it...how, he wasn’t sure, but it could apparently send him into a near berserk rage, if the stories were true. His sister was nowhere to be found, probably back on the Sky Noah. It could come out during other life and death situations, too, he supposed, and this was fairly abundant proof.

Adel walked over, blood spattered on him from the brutal assault. “He was an old enemy, I guess. Another one. We have to deal with them all the time.” 

“I know.” One of those men had been someone he had known, once. He looked Adel up and down. “We should get you cleaned up,” he said. _It might look bad around Köln if he’s seen like this._ His right boot was slick with the man’s blood in particular. 

Adelheid nodded. “I doubt this one will cause me to lose sleep. These never do.” 

Heidern was curious about this, though decided to let it pass for now. Making a call to a few of his more...secret units, he let them know to take care of things in the alleyway as he looked back at Adel. 

“There’s our hotel nearby. I have the jeep. Care to join me?”

“I...kind of just want a drink,” Adelheid snorted, though it was in a bit of dark laughter. “Sorry I’m late.” 

Heidern nodded. “Of course we have something.” He cracked a tiny smile, trying to lighten the mood the best he could at the moment. “Ralf and Clark are regularly with me, you know.” 

Adelheid ran a hand through his hair, nodding, allowing himself a small smirk back to the older man as he followed him to his vehicle. 

\--

The evening was cool, but they chose to sit on the balcony anyway. 

Heidern’s room had a rather nice balcony; up on roughly the fifteenth floor, it overlooked the city, and he liked going out here to clear his head. He had fixed two drinks-whiskey over ice, from his more private stash-and carried them out, handing one to Adelheid, who had since cleaned the rather ample blood from the man off of his clothes the best he could. 

Adelheid nodded, taking the glass and sipping it. “Wasn’t counting on this,” he said. “The man asked me for directions. I knew the neighborhood, so decided to help him along. He probably knew we were here-hiding the Sky Noah isn’t exactly easy,” he chuckled. “Wouldn’t be surprised if he tailed me coming away from it.” 

Heidern nodded in silence, sipping his own drink as he sat on the bench next to him. Adel continued. 

“I don’t fear them-and my sister rarely goes out alone, so she’ll be fine. He...kept taunting me. I usually don’t lose myself unless I hear the music…” he trailed off, shaking his head. There was an incident at the last tournament that Heidern had remembered. “But this time, I saw the gun, I heard his words, and I wanted him dead.” 

Heidern sighed, closing his eye for a moment. “While I cannot tell you how to act, just...be aware of yourself,” he said. He knew what had happened between Goenitz and Rugal, and how Adelheid had inherited the power. “As I said, I have had to take the lives of men pointing guns at me before.” He paused. "What did you mean about losing sleep?"

The young man sighed, fiddling with his drink. He took another sip. "Sometimes when I have to fight...and the music starts...not all of them deserve it. Some of them aren't bad people. They didn't do anything to us or pose a threat. But I lose control...and they end up like he did." He crossed one leg over the other, leaning back. "I don't sleep well after those."

Scratching the back of his neck a moment, Heidern looked over at him. _The sister has more of the attitude in her, for sure,_ he thought. He considered his words. "Your feeling is not a bad thing. Taking a life shouldn't be easy, nor the first decision," he replied. "Life or death, sometimes it is unavoidable."

Adelheid nodded, sitting forward, looking out over the city. His hair whipped about his head, though the chill air did not seem to bother him. “You were saying something about the group.”

Heidern nodded. “They have apparently taken an interest in the tournament...and I would imagine, your family.”

Turning toward him, his eyes narrowed. “What do they want with us?” he asked. 

“Your resources, I might guess,” Heidern replied. “They could do a lot with them.”

“Why do you think they’re targeting my sister?”

“They know she runs a lot of the book-keeping,” he said. “Plus, I think they might rather work behind the scenes.”

Adel nodded. He DID take on the ‘face’ of the operation quite often-most of the dealings his sister had-and there were many-happened behind the scenes. 

“Thank you,” he said. “For letting me know. I will at least start looking now. Through our records more.” Rose had seemingly been doing some things that she had even kept quiet to him, which was odd, but he didn’t think much of it, as while the two were close, and he was very protective of her, they didn’t tell each other absolutely _everything_. 

Heidern nodded, taking another drink. “Let me know when we can meet again. I’ll have whatever information I can get. I have the others on it, as well.” This group-apparently with ties to Ash Crimson, somehow-bothered him. He was getting vibes that he would get in regards to the Hakkeshu. He thought a moment, before turning toward him. He held his hand out. “I am glad we did not turn out as enemies after all.”

Adelheid smiled softly, taking his hand in a firm grip. “Same.” 

The two men sat in silence for awhile, finishing their rather good whiskey before Adel stood. “I need to get back.”

They stood, walking into the room; Ralf and Clark were absent-probably out on their own business. Adelheid sat his glass down on the table. Adjusting his longcoat, he waved once at Heidern as he went to open the door. “See you again soon.”

Heidern nodded. “Tell me if anything happens before then.” 

Adelheid nodded back. “I will.” He walked out, not looking. 

As he did so, he felt a light thunk against him as he looked down to see a young woman-a Desert Eagle on one hip and a whip curled at the other-stumbling back and shaking her head. “Oh! Sorry,” she said, blinking. 

Adelheid shook his head. “No, that was me,” he said. “You alright?”

“Sure, just surprised me is all,” she said. _This must be Adelheid Bernstein, she thought._ She had heard about him from the others, and knew Heidern had some contact. 

Adelheid scratched his head-slightly sheepishly, if anything, a small smile forming on his face. “Take care,” he said, bowing his head politely and walking off quickly down the hallway. 

Whip watched him walk off quickly. _He seems a bit shy for being the son of Rugal Bernstein_ , she mused as she walked in to see what her boss had waiting for her.

**Author's Note:**

> Some notes: 
> 
> I mostly just use some of Adelheid’s attacks from the game; and he truly IS scarily powerful-the manhua had Maxima mention in passing that had he not have been a strong cyborg, the kick he had hit him with would have messed him up *far* more and he basically caves a man’s head in with a single flying kick(albeit it’s not too detailed in the more pg-13 manhua but christ it still looked bad.) 
> 
> Some of the commentary was from the pre-XI canon stories(like the line about being enemies-this was before they started working together in the game.) Also in XIII, Adelheid refers to Heidern as ‘Colonel Heidern’ when they speak. 
> 
> This was probably the first time he had met Whip, though he had seen her in passing before this on the couple of other times Heidern had met with him. 
> 
> Also from the manhua: It’s translated something about ‘every time I murder, I have trouble sleeping’ or something along those lines(that Adelheid says), during the K’ fight when she’s driving him berserk via the piano. He also mentioned how he had nothing against K’ and didn’t particularly want to fight him. He enjoys fighting for sport it seems but has no real want to kill unless it’s necessary(that man whose head he caved in tried to kill his sister.) It seems to imply that when he’s berserk he loses it and he does kill under it, and when he snaps out of it he’s not too happy afterward if the people weren’t too deserving of it. It’s why the phrase 'This one won't make me lose sleep' comes up. 
> 
> Gathering all of this stuff from the manhua and the game he seems to be a type that kills if necessary, but doesn’t like losing control about it and taking out innocents. Rose in the manhua was more nasty here; essentially driving him berserk and egging him on to beat K’ into literal hamburger. 
> 
> (Just a blurb on how I characterize these guys going from the little material I have to work with.)


End file.
